


Come Home to Me

by ishiplouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Because I'm not a monster, Break Up, Crying, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, Letters, Love Letters, M/M, PA Louis, Post-Break Up, Sad Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 06:25:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18277631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishiplouis/pseuds/ishiplouis
Summary: The worst, Louis thinks, is the minute right when he wakes up in the morning and his mind is looking for Harry. His hand reaches out, his body searches for the heat, his head turns towards the other pillow. But then realisation crushes his heart. Harry left.So his head sinks back into the pillow and his hands curl around the comforter to hide himself underneath. Harry left. It’s been three days, and Louis prefers to cuddle Harry’s pillow rather than think about it.Or an AU where Harry left, leaving behind only a box of letters.





	Come Home to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Tabitha & Nadja for their help with this fic :)

 

****

_ These tears are making me blind _

_ I don’t know why _

_ I start a forest fire and burn us down _

_ But you know at the end of the night, I’ll come around _

LEON

****

 

_ The worst, Louis thinks, is the minute right when he wakes up in the morning and his mind is looking for Harry. His hand reaches out, his body searches for the heat, his head turns towards the other pillow. But then realisation crushes his heart. Harry left.  _

 

_ So his head sinks back into the pillow and his hands curl around the comforter to hide himself underneath. Harry left. It’s been three days, and Louis prefers to cuddle Harry’s pillow rather than think about it.  _

  
  


Louis likes to think that this is all a dream and he will wake up soon. This was too sudden. Too unexpected. Too unreal. Harry didn’t leave. 

 

And yet. 

 

His presence is still everywhere in the flat, some clothes are still hanging in their mutual wardrobe, the vegan food that only Harry would eat is still in the cupboards and the fridge. There’s still some pairs of his shoes near the front door. In the bathroom there are still some products Louis wouldn’t know what to do with. Harry is still everywhere. 

 

His mind is battling between the horror of Harry’s leaving and the rationality that Louis wants to believe: Harry is about to come back or Louis is going to wake up. 

 

Louis removes the covers off his face, knowing he won’t get any more sleep as his mind is fully awake now. He sniffs Harry’s pillow one last time and gets up from the bed. He makes sure to cover Harry’s pillow with the comforter so his smell remains intact. Louis knows he’s acting crazy right now, trying to retain a smell that will obviously disappear at some point, and yet.

 

He glances again at Harry’s side of the bed before sliding on his slippers and walking to the kitchen. 

 

Out of habit his hands reach out for Harry’s mug first, and before his mind realises it, he has already put it on the counter next to his own. Absently, he puts some water in the kettle, avoiding his phone which he left on the counter yesterday. 

 

Right now, his phone feels like a bomb ready to explode. Louis isn’t sure he would be able to not hover over Harry’s number and tap on it. He isn’t ready to hear Harry’s voicemail. Not ready to leave a message that he knows won’t be answered.

 

He pours the hot water into his mug, leaving Harry’s empty right next to his. Harry always laughed about Louis’ passion for his tea. That’s actually how they met, a year ago. Harry was, according to Louis, committing a crime against the nation for pouring milk into his tea while the teabag was still in. Of course, Louis had to rush towards the lanky man and correct this abomination. That’s how it all started. Harry laughed and let Louis order a new tea for him, helping him master the perfect English tea. 

 

Before Louis can feel his eyes water, he finishes his tea, putting his cup into the sink but leaving Harry’s on the kitchen counter. 

 

He goes to the bathroom where Harry’s cologne lingers, and Louis reluctantly turns on the light. There are still a lot of products that don’t belong to Louis in the bathroom, and with just a glance he has thousands of memories of morning routines that flash back behind his eyes. 

He hurriedly takes his toothbrush and toothpaste before turning off the light and closing the door behind him. He cannot stay in there. 

 

Instead, he decides to go and brush his teeth at the kitchen sink. He doesn’t care if he looks rough or if his hair isn’t styled. He doesn’t care about a thing except leaving this flat that is slowly but surely oppressing him. 

 

Less than ten minutes later, he is outside, feeling breathless and on edge. Today is going to be a long day.

 

***

He met Liam when he started working at Microsoft. They bonded immediately on their first day of training, mainly because they were the only two men out of the ten assistants that were being trained that day. Being a male assistant may not be common, but Louis sees his job as a springboard for something else. Not something better, because he doesn’t think less assistants, but something else that perhaps involves having more responsibility.

For today, at least, Louis is happy to not have anyone to manage and to simply follow orders. His brain had shut down the moment Harry left anyway, and he isn’t capable of doing anything but going over what happened and how it happened and what to do next. 

“Lou!” Louis hears someone calling behind him, but he makes no move to look over his shoulder. He is so tired. Already so tired. 

“Lou, wait.” Whoever this person is, they’re persistent. Louis contemplates turning around to see who is calling him right as they tap him on his shoulder.

“Lou, hey mate!” Liam grins at him, so full of energy for a Monday morning. He must see something on Louis’ face, though, because his smile falters. Maybe it’s the dark circles by Louis’ eyes. Maybe it’s Louis’ three day beard. Who knows. Whatever it is, Liam squeezes Louis’ arm confortingly. 

“Are you okay, Lou? Did something happen this weekend?”

Louis doesn’t know what to say. He shakes his head and continues down the hall towards the lifts. If he’s lucky, the lift will be packed and Louis won’t have to answer. There’s nothing to say anyway. Louis still hasn’t wrapped his head around what happened, and he certainly can’t talk about it yet. 

“Lou, are you sure you’re alright? You seem a little bit pale and,” Liam hesitates, “tired.” 

“I’m fine, come on.” He gestures for Liam to follow him into the lift and just as predicted, it’s crowded. Perfect opportunity to avoid eye contact. 

His boss is waiting for him as soon as he steps out of the lift, and Louis has to abandon a worried Liam to follow Mr Thompson. 

Orders and questions shoot by all day long, and Louis lets himself get carried away by his work. It’s a nice distraction. When he finally glances at the clock, it’s later than he thought. He checks outside, and yes, it’s already dark. 

“Tomlinson!” He hears suddenly, startling him. Right, work.

“Yes Sir,” he calls back, marching into his boss’ office. “How may I help you? 

“We need to check my agenda. I don’t know what you’ve done, but some of these appointments overlap.” 

Louis rolls his eyes, but sits down in front of Mr Thompson and opens his tablet. Deep down, he feels grateful for an excuse to stay at work longer. Anything to keep him from going back home. “Home”. Louis almost laughs. His flat isn’t home anymore. Just a box full of painful memories. He doesn’t want to go back there. 

 

***

It’s past nine in the evening, and Louis feels like he can’t prolong going home any further. Louis had worked until his eyes burned from looking at the screen, and now, with a throbbing headache, he’s taking the lift to his floor.

As soon as he opens the door, the faint scent of Harry hits his nose, and memories rush back to his mind making him nauseated. Louis remembers their first day in their flat, their first joint rental. It felt like a huge step at the time, and Louis remembers how they christened every surface of this flat. They were so in love, Louis can only remember laughter, light banter, love making and domestic fluff. While he removes his shoes next to the front door, he wonders where everything went wrong, what happened, which signs Louis chose to ignore, but he finds nothing. 

That’s the thing with this breakup. For once, Louis had been in the dark the whole time. He hadn’t seen it coming at all.

Before he can feel himself getting overwhelmed and teary, he goes straight to the kitchen to make himself some tea. He doesn’t feel like eating and hasn’t since Harry left. Harry was the cook in their relationship anyway, and Louis wouldn’t know what to do with all the goods in their fridge.  _ A lot of waste _ , he thinks, when he opens the fridge to grab the milk. 

He contemplates the idea of sleeping on the couch because the idea of entering their bedroom makes him feel sick, but he sighs and forces himself to go in.

It’s dark, but Louis doesn’t need to turn on the light. He knows this room by heart. Countless nights being the last one to go to bed have taught him how many steps until his legs will hit the bedframe and how many steps until he reaches the nightstand to put his tea there.

If he closes his eyes, he can feel Harry’s presence. He can imagine that he is already asleep, lying right there under the covers. This room smells like Harry the most. Between the scented candles and the clothes that still have Harry’s cologne soaked into them, this room is Louis’ nightmare. 

“Fucking hell,” he mutters while removing his clothes angrily; he just wants to sleep and forget. 

He sits up on his bed with just his boxers on. He feels the tears rushing to his eyes and he does nothing to hold them in. Soon enough, he’s sobbing uncontrollably, tears and snot running down his face. He tries to grab one of the many used tissues that lay on the floor, but instead his fingers bump into a hard and cold box.

Intrigued, Louis turns on the light on his nightstand and grabs the box. He furrows his brows; he’s never seen this box before and had no idea there was anything under their bed. 

The box is an old Quality Street chocolate box that seems to have seen better days. After several attempts, Louis succeeds in opening it, and is surprised to find what seems like a hundred letters inside. 

He suddenly recognises Harry’s handwriting and freezes. He feels like his snooping needs to stop, and he quickly puts the lid of the box back on. His eyes search the room as if Harry is going to show up and ask Louis what the hell he was doing. But nothing moves around him, not a sound to be heard, and Louis is once again reminded that Harry left three days ago. Harry left him behind without texting or showing any sign of life since he did, so fuck it. Louis reopens the box and carefully grabs the first letter he sees. 

He can feel a knot forming in his throat when he starts reading. 

_ “My Lou,  _

_ You talked about it again today and I don’t know how you can see having kids with me. Since the beginning of our relationship I’ve always thought you were joking with me. I know you’re sincere and that you love me, but I also know that someone a thousand times better is waiting for you.  _

_ I’m not your forever and ever. I’m not your soulmate. I know it. I wish I was stronger and better for you. Lou, I have done my best to be the one you want me to be, but I’m useless.” _

Louis throws the paper on the bed and runs to the bathroom. He is hyperventilating, snot all over his face, tears blurring his sight. What the hell did he just read? Was it really his Harry who wrote that? When did he write it? Why? How? Louis’ head is spinning, he needs answers, he needs air, but most of all, he needs Harry. 

“Baby...” he murmurs to no one but the silence in the bathroom. He knows he has used all the tissues in the flat, so he takes a whole roll of loo roll back with him and walks back to his room. He needs Harry’s scent right now, so that’s what he does. He slouches back on the mattress to sniff Harry’s pillow and cry some more. 

How is it even possible that Harry was feeling so down, and he didn’t see a thing? 

 

***

Louis wakes feeling cold. He must have fallen asleep crying because his face is still buried in Harry’s pillow which is wet from his tears. A chill in the air makes Louis shiver and he realizes he fell asleep on top of the covers.. He checks the time on his clock and notices that he only slept for one hour, it’s not even midnight but he doesn’t feel like sleeping anymore. His tea is cold on his nightstand so he goes to the kitchen to pour the remaining tea into the sink. 

His eyes glare at Harry’s mug still on the counter and he can feel the familiar tingling in his throat. It climbs to his nose and finally reaches his eyes. He thought after crying for three days straight he would be empty, empty of tears for the man he loves, empty of sadness, that it would be completely gone by now. How long until he is completely dry and the tears stop? How long until it doesn’t hurt? He grabs the mug and throws it violently on the floor. Fuck you, Harry. Fuck you for leaving, fuck you for writing your feelings and never expressing them.

He feels his legs giving up and soon enough he is sitting on the floor, near the mug’s debris. He cries. It’s ugly, he knows, it’s ugly, him sitting there on his kitchen floor in the dark surrounded by fragments of porcelain but he can’t control the tears, the sobbing, it’s as if all the sadness needs to leave his body, so he stays there and cries. 

An hour or two must have passed when he finally decides to go back to his room. Distantly, his mind remembers that soon he will need to be ready for work and with only two hours of sleep under his belt, the day is going to be extra long and difficult. So he goes back to his bed, and lays on the mattress under the covers. From there he can still see the box he discovered yesterday. It’s taunting him, sitting there full of unspoken words. 

 

***

The next time he dares to approach the box, it’s five days later. It’s Saturday and after sleeping until one in the afternoon Louis can’t escape anymore, he needs to finish reading the letter that was addressed to him.

_ “I love you so much but I can’t find the words to tell you that I am not the one for you. I thought about it a lot but time passes so fast and I know you wouldn’t understand if suddenly I was to give you these letters. If suddenly I was to talk to you and let you know. My therapist says the wrong time doesn’t exist, that I should talk to you now, that you would understand but I know it’s too late. Once again I messed up. Once again I waited too long and I can’t find the words. If you were to read this letter right now, you would think I am a fool. I’m sorry Lou, my love, I’m so sorry. I need to leave before it’s too late, before you’re too deep and can’t forget me quickly enough; someone better than me is somewhere out there for you my Lou, I love you and I wish I was there to see you happy with this new person but I can’t. I love you. _

_ Yours forever, _

_ Harry” _

Louis is speechless. How did he never know about all of this? How did he never sense that Harry was feeling like this? He wants to yell at his past self for ignoring Harry’s uneasiness. How come Harry was seeing a therapist and he never knew about it? 

He remains sitting there on his bed, staring at his hands and trying to understand how he fucked everything up. Suddenly he needs to speak to Harry, he needs to tell him that he’s sorry he never suspected anything but they can work it through now. He reaches for his phone in his pocket and without thinking twice, he calls Harry. 

It goes straight to voicemail but Louis doesn’t care, he didn’t expect for Harry to pick up anyway.

“Harry? It’s Lou, I-” He hesitates, suddenly not sure if confessing that he has read the letter is a good idea, “I’ve found the letters, I- …, I read the first one and I’m sorry H, I didn’t know how you felt, please come back home? We need to talk, I-, I’m not mad, I mean I’m mad at myself because I never saw that you were feeling like that but please babe come back, I’m begging you. I don’t know where you are but we can work through this, please H, come home?” 

He hangs up and feels sick to his stomach. He rushes towards the bathroom and barely has the time to open the lid of the toilet bowl before he vomits. 

“Fucking hell…” he mutters, wiping his mouth with a piece of toilet paper. He never felt like that for any breakup in his life. He most definitely never loved anyone like he loves Harry.

Against his better judgement, he goes back to his bedroom and goes straight to the stack of letters. He needs to read them, even if it hurts, even if he feels already drained empty and so fucking tired after reading only one letter. He needs to read all of them. Harry wrote them for a purpose, and those letters are the only thing that connect him to Harry right now. 

So he sits on his bed, gathers some tissues next to him and starts. 

He goes with the first one at the bottom of the box, it must be the first Harry ever wrote and Louis is curious to know when it all started, when Harry felt that he couldn’t talk to Louis. 

There is no date on the letter but Louis thinks that maybe while reading it he will figure out when it was written.  

_ “Louis,  _

_ We just had our first date and I can’t believe I made it without embarrassing myself! You’re so full of light, so bright and happy and it’s contagious. Since I met you I feel invincible! When you first approached me at Costa, I was breathless that such a handsome man like you would talk to me and explain to me how to make the perfect tea. I still wonder if it’s a line you have used on a lot of other men but I want to believe that you’re interested in me, somehow.  _

_ What a coincidence to have met you the night after that encounter! I felt like it was destiny, Louis, or something like that. I hope I didn’t scare you away with how I talked and danced. I was so nervous when I saw that you were there that I drank two shots of tequila and tequila is my nemesis. Niall knew it and yet he handed me the drinks anyway. Such a bad friend! But he said it was liquid courage and I think it worked, I was able to talk to you and even dance with you and when I saw that you wanted to leave I invented this story about my ex being there so you could kiss me and walk me home so he wouldn’t.  _

_ But today was magical, you held my hand and made me laugh from start to end and I forgot, Lou. I forgot the voices in my head that want me to believe that you’re too good for me. That I don’t deserve your attention.  _

_ H.” _

Louis feels sick. It feels so private to read these letters even though they’re written for him. He looks around to grab Harry’s pillow and deeply inhale Harry’s scent. 

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs into the pillow. He wipes the tears on his cheeks and feels like hiding under the covers of his bed for days. So that’s how Harry felt during their first date. Right now, Louis just wants to hug him and promise him that it’s going to be okay. He also wants to be hugged by Harry and hear that everything is going to be okay. But Harry isn’t here. Only the faint scent on the pillow can comfort him now, and that’s not enough. 

He’s scared to read another letter. He’s scared of the secrets it can reveal. So he lies down and without noticing, falls asleep with Harry’s pillow nestled against his chest. 

***

Louis wakes up to his phone vibrating on the nightstand. Even though his brain is still filled with sleep, he hurriedly grabs it to check who is calling. ‘Mum’ he reads on his screen and even though he doesn’t feel like talking to his mum, he knows better than to not pick up. 

“Hullo?” 

“Lou, it’s mum!” His mum sounds excited and happy and Louis feels his throat tightening. “How are you, love?” 

“I’m fine, mum, I was sleeping.” He says before he can think about it and closes his eyes as soon as the words have left his mouth, his mum knows he never naps. 

“Oh, why baby? Are you okay? Is everything ok at work? How is Harry? Is he with you?” Before she asks if Louis can give the phone to Harry, he interrupts her.

“He left.” 

There’s silence on the line and Louis closes his eyes again to prevent the tears from spilling out. 

“Who left, love?” His mum asks, her voice suddenly more concerned. 

“Harry, mum, he left, it’s-”, Louis tries to breathe through his nose to prevent his voice from faltering, “it’s over, mum.” 

“Oh no Lou, why didn’t you call me? What happened? Why is it over, love?” Louis doesn’t hear the rest of the questions as he removes the phone from his ear and lets all the sadness overwhelm him once again. 

“Mum, I’ll call you back okay?” He says, not caring if she was done talking. He hangs up and nestles his face into Harry’s pillow.

He must fall asleep once again because when he wakes up everything is dark around him. A quick glance at the clock shows that it’s past eight. Memories of the aborted conversation with his mother come back to him and he grabs his phone to compose a quick text to her 

“Sorry for earlier, I just need a bit of time to process. Call you back soon, Love you xxx” 

Once it’s done, his eyes catch Harry’s letter box and without thinking he picks one at the bottom. 

_ “My Lou,  _

_ Today you presented me to your friends and I couldn’t have been more nervous. I know you can’t tell and not a lot of people can actually, but I tend to get anxiety around new people. But you were the best and never left my sight, constantly caring for me and asking if I was okay (maybe you saw on my face that I was in a weird mood). Nonetheless, you were the best and my heart, tonight, is full of love for you. Yes, love. I know it’s certainly too early but that’s how I feel. I wonder when you’re going to understand that I’m not good enough. When you are going to let me go. I’m already prepared. Nobody stays. But with every day that passes it will hurt more because I care so much about you and for me you're THE one. I wish I was it for you too.  _

_ I love you.  _

_ Yours always, _

_ H” _

Louis wipes his tears and grabs his phone on the nightstand, he needs to call Harry. This is such a mess. Louis is starting to understand that Harry got it all wrong. Louis didn’t see the signs and he didn’t say enough that he loves Harry to death and that he is  _ the _ only one in Louis’ heart. 

Seeing his phone’s wallpaper hurts more than he wants to admit. The picture that Harry himself chose seems to be there to mock Louis and he almost throws his phone against the nearest wall but Harry’s smile in the photo is mesmerizing and he can’t bring himself to destroy it. 

He speed dials Harry’s phone like he did so many times before only to be stopped by Harry’s voicemail. It’s not even Harry’s voice, just an electronic message asking him if wants to leave a message and before he can decide the recognisable beep interrupts his hesitation. 

“Harry? Um, it’s me, I-,” he hesitates, “You know I found your letters. I only read three of them. Harry, we need to speak, you got it all wrong babe. You’re so important to me. You’re the love of my life, there’s no one I’m waiting for, it’s you. It has always been you. Please call me back so we can talk.” 

He hangs up before he has time to delete his message. He never was good at communicating his feelings and in less than one minute he just confessed more than he did in the entire year of their relationship. 

 

***

Unfortunately, he needs to get back to work at some point. He doesn’t even know what day it is but he goes and he works. His boss, thankfully, doesn’t seem to care one iota that he’s got the darkest circles under his eyes or that he wears the same outfits for several days. He doesn’t care and he gives Louis lot of work. Which is a perfect way to avoid Liam and his worried glances. 

Though, Liam cannot be avoided more than two days, and it’s on his lunch time that Liam strikes. 

“Louis, hey! How are you?” Liam and his cheerful mood enters his office in full force leaving Louis with no choice but to peer up at him. “Have you eaten yet? I was planning on going to the cafeteria downstairs. Do you want to join?” 

Louis tries to smile. “Oh no I’m fine, I’m not too hungry today, I’ll stay here and work.” He gestures vaguely to all the folders on his desk, “so much work, you know.” 

Unfortunately, Liam is not fooled and insists. 

“C’mon mate, it’s fifteen minutes max! You’ll be back soon enough to get back to work! Plus you need to eat, Lou!” Liam is already taking Louis’ coat off the hook and his badge from  on the desk. “C’mon, it’ll be fun!” 

Louis is not sure about fun but he sighs and gets up. There’s no way he can avoid Liam any longer anyway. He wonders how long Liam is going to wait until he starts to grill him.

His question is answered as soon as they enter the elevator. 

“So! How have you been?” Liam asks while pressing the 0 button followed by the one that closes the doors. 

“I’m okay, and you?” 

“I’m fine. I feel like I didn’t see you in ages! How is Harry?” 

“I wouldn’t know,” Louis answers. “He left.” 

The elevator doors open right then and Louis is thankful for the noise and the people waiting to enter. At least it gives him time to prepare himself for the questions that will inevitably follow. 

“What do you mean he left?” Liam asks. 

“He left. It’s over, him and me. Can we speak about something else?” Louis tries to look profoundly engrossed by the cafeteria specials of the day but he can feel Liam’s gaze on him. 

“I’m so sorry Lou, I didn’t know. I mean, I could see that something was wrong but oh my god. Sorry, I’m speaking about it, aren’t I?” Liam looks so embarrassed. 

“It’s okay, I just need time to process.” They’re now in front of the soup and sandwich stand and, despite what he said earlier, Louis feels like he could eat a little something after all. “What are you eating?” 

Liam clears his throat, “I’ll take a ham sandwich and a diet coke.” He puts both items on his food tray. “You know if you need anything or anyone to talk to, I’m there okay?” 

“I know, Payno, don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay as long as we don’t talk about it, remember?” Louis responds with a pointed look. 

And that’s that. Liam avoids the subject and Louis pretends he’s okay. 

***

Of course, he’s not okay. As soon as he enters his flat that evening, he feels like trashing the place or redecorating or crying for the whole night on his kitchen floor.

Harry is everywhere. That’s the problem. He’s in the kitchen with all the weird food, with his mugs and his weird supplements and his baking utensils. He’s in the bedroom with his pillow and his clothes and the books he left behind. He is everywhere and Louis doesn’t know if he needs to put everything in the bin or keep everything and treasure the last traces of his lover. 

He needs to leave. Right now. This place is suffocating him. So that’s what he does, he didn’t even remove his coat anyway, so he closes the door behind him and walks outside the building. He walks aimlessly and tries to shut down his brain because Harry is there too. His laugh, his dimples, his curls, his forest eyes, his smile, his lips, his tattoos, everything is still intact in Louis’ brain and it’s overwhelming this feeling of not being able to escape what’s tormenting him. He can feel the tears gathering in his eyes and he is so done with crying. He just wants Harry back. 

Suddenly, he feels the need to call him again and, even though he knows Harry will certainly not pick up, he needs to speak to him. 

Of course, once again, it’s the robotic voice that welcomes him on Harry’s voicemail and once again Louis doesn’t have it in him to hang up. 

“Baby.” His voice breaks and he sniffs, “I miss you baby. Come back please. I don’t know what I did. I don’t know a single thing, I just know that I love you and I need you. It’s bad, H, it’s really bad here without you. Please come back.” 

He feels so miserable. He knows Harry is not coming back. He can feel it in his gut. This is not a joke, Harry left. 

 

***

_ “My Lou,  _

 

_ I love you so much, today was amazing! You’re sleeping right next to me right now and I probably should too but I need to immortalise what just happened. We’ve been dating for almost two weeks now and today you organised a surprise for me at your home (because you know I hate crowds). You cooked and played some guitar for me. I feel so blessed to be with such an angel like you. _

_ I swore to myself everyday to try and be better for you, to stop worrying and stop be anxious about every little thing. I swear I’m trying because you deserve the best boyfriend in the world. I’m far from accomplishing it but I’m trying, Lou.  _

_ Tonight we made love and it was everything I hoped and more. You’re so gentle and caring. I love you so much. (I’ll never tell you this in person. At least, I won’t be the first to do it!) You didn’t seem to care about my love handles and my gangly body, you made me feel beautiful and it’s the first time that has happened for me when I’m with someone in bed! I always feel inadequate.  But you’re different. _

_ I love you, Lou. _

_ Always yours, _

_ H.” _

Louis puts the letter back in the box and takes another one. And another one. And another. The box is filled with Harry’s insecurities and Louis feels worse the more he reads. How did he never see that Harry was struggling? How did that happen? He doesn’t even wonder why Harry left now. He would have left too if he was Harry! 

His phone vibrating in his pocket startles him out of his spiraling. It’s his mum and he knows if he doesn’t take the call now she will try calling until he picks up. 

“Hullo, mum?” 

“Hey love, how are you?” 

“I’m okay mum, I’m just,” he wonders if he should let his mother know about the letters. After all, they were Harry’s secrets and he already feels like he’s violating his trust when he reads them. 

“Boo? Are you okay?” His mother asks again, her tone a bit worried now. 

“Yes, mum. It’s just that I found a box full of letters underneath the bed and I’ve been reading them and I feel like shit, mum. And I just-”

“Lou, I don’t get it. Who put letters under your bed? Is this about Harry?” 

“Yes. He wrote them. They’re actually addressed to me but he never gave them to me. It’s more like a journal type of thing. He wrote about his insecurities and a lot of things I had no idea about, mum. I feel awful, how could I have been so blind?” 

Louis can feel the tears nearly brimming his eyes and he is so done with crying. He just wants his emotions to be under control already. 

“Lou, have you tried contacting him?” His mother asked. 

“Yes, of course, I’ve tried but I know he won’t come back. When he said it was over he meant it, I could feel it. I don’t even know where he is right now. For all I know he could have left the country, I wouldn’t know.” He sniffles loudly and hopes that his mother will decide to hang up and leave him alone. 

“Don’t you have any friends in common that you could ask if they know where he is? There must be a way to contact him!” 

“There’s no one, mum, and it’s okay. After reading those letters, I don’t even think he would want anything to do with me.”

“I’m sorry, love. I know it must hurt a lot right now but you know it’s only temporary, right? And if you need anything you call me, okay?” 

“Yes. I know, thanks. I need to-”

“I know, sweetheart. I’ll leave you alone now. I love you. Call me soon.” And with that she hangs up. 

 

***

One week has passed when Louis decides to write to Harry. He has so many things he wants to say and no one to say them to. So he wonders if it could be therapeutic to write back to Harry. 

_ “Harry,  _

_ I am not sure what I am doing right now but I have so many things to tell you so I’m going to write. You needed to write during our relationship and I feel myself in need of a way to express my feelings, too, now. I love you so much, baby. Even more now that I have read your letters. Yes, that’s right, every single one. I sat tight and read them. It’s not pity, but I love you even more now. I wish I would have seen. I wish I would have been more clever and understood. You have a beautiful mind, baby, but your mind was telling you so many lies. I have never looked for anyone but you. I knew from the start that you were the one and that no one else would be able to compare to you.  _

_ You’re my everything, baby. I miss you so much. Life goes on but living without you for two months now, I feel like life is tasteless and has no meaning anymore. Believe it or not but you were my sun in this ocean of grey. You were always so cheery and bright how could I have known that you had those times when you felt down.  _

_ I took you for granted and for that I am sorry. I am sorry I never really asked how you were. I never dug, I never looked for more. I should have. I’m sorry. _

_ Your Lou. _

_ Always.”  _

Everything hurts so he curls up in a ball and cries until he falls asleep, the pen still in his hand, the letter abandoned at the bed’s foot. 

When he wakes up, he feels groggy and his eyes hurt. He wonders where Harry is right now. Is he laughing? Crying? Chatting with someone? Is he enjoying the sun of spring? He wonders if one day he will meet him again, if he’ll ever be able to see those jade coloured eyes one more time. He wonders if he will be able to apologize. 

*** 

The second time Louis decides to write is after a particularly long day at work where Liam kept finding excuses to bring him tea and watching him with puppy eyes. 

He sits cross-legged on his bed and brings the frame he from his nightstand closer to him. It’s a photo of Harry at his birthday last year. Having Harry with him like that, it almost feels like he is talking to him directly, and not writing a message that Harry will certainly never read. 

_ “Harry,  _

_ I can understand why you continued to write those letters all this time. It’s therapeutic and it kinda helps. I’m not‘cured’. I still miss you dearly and wish you were here to talk to me but I find myself a little bit more at peace after writing to you.  _

_ I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t talk to me all this time. I would have listened, baby. I would have helped you, I swear I would.  _

_ My mum keeps asking if I have news from you and I keep responding no. I don’t add that I don’t really try anymore. I know you left because you felt trapped. Who would want to come back to a trap? I wish you would have picked up your phone when I tried though. Just hearing your voice would have made my day. Even if it was to shut me down and ask me to leave you alone, I would have been happy to have heard your voice.  _

_ I miss you so much. I’ve never missed anyone like this before. Not even my dad when he left, not even my grandma when she died, not even my ex when it was over.  _

_ I feel like the universe is messing with me. I still see you everywhere in the flat you know. I know it’s silly but I still boil too much water in the morning because I think you’ll need some for your tea. I still sleep with your pillow even though your smell faded ages ago and the sheets have been changed since you left.  _

_ I still go drink my tea first in the morning because my mind thinks you’re in the bathroom getting ready and we will swap places once you’re done in there.  _

_ It’s silly, right? I am an idiot for waiting and hoping and crying so much. Oh baby, I’ve never cried this much in my whole life. I still have so many tears left. I thought at some point I would be empty but, no. It doesn’t seem like it. I’m still crying every day.  _

_ I hope you’re okay, H. I miss you.  _

_ Your Lou.  _

_ Always.”  _

Writing does help a bit. Months pass and Louis finds himself crying less. He still has a lot of Harry’s belongings in his flat but he doesn’t dare to touch them yet. He is still healing slowly and even Liam has stopped with the overly caring tone and the incessant checking up. 

Louis has accumulated at least ten letters now, all addressed to Harry, and he is dying to know Harry’s new address. He wants him to read them and maybe come back. He knows it’s hopeless to think like that. He should focus on going out again, meeting up with friends and socialising. That’s what his friends and his mum say at least. He keeps telling them that he isn’t ready. 

He keeps telling his mother that healing might take more time than usual but he  _ will _ heal eventually. He's still navigating the mystery of Harry's pain? Because he's not certain why Harry felt so lost and insecure . His mind is still focused on figuring out how and when and why, but slowly he is working on getting his mind back on the right path. He will heal eventually. He will stop crying each time he reads one of Harry’s letters. He will go out and smile again at some point. He just needs time. And to keep writing to Harry. 

_ “My love, _

_ It’s been six months now that you’ve been gone. My mum is asking me constantly to go out and socialise. I believe she thinks if I meet someone else I’ll be better. Less sad and depressed. She doesn’t know though that I still don’t know why you left, why you suddenly said it’s over and ran away. If only I knew, I would be accepting right now and not still looking for clues.  _

_ Yes, I’m still an idiot that thinks the answer is out there somewhere. I’ve read your letters a thousand times now and there are actually so many reasons why you might have left that I can’t pinpoint which one it is. Did you leave because you couldn’t talk to me? Or because you thought I was looking for someone else? Or did I push you too hard with my silliness and my insensitivity? I admit I never knew you were thinking that way about yourself. For me you were a confident and happy person. I will never forgive myself for never asking more or seeing more behind your bright smile. I always thought you were happy, I swear.  _

_ I read once in your letters that you were seeing a therapist. I never guessed, I never knew. I felt angry at first that there were so many things about your life you never told me. It seems as if I was in a relationship with someone else most of the time. Because I can’t remember the events like you do. Because there’s so many things about you I didn’t know.  _

_ I wish we could start over. I wish we could relive our first few months with me trying better to be there for you. I wish so many things and my life is full of what if’s. I don’t think I’ll ever get over you.  _

_ You were my soulmate, baby. You  _ _ are _ _ my soulmate. I know you never believed in that, that you thought someone better was there for me but I never wanted better. I wanted you. I want you. I want you to come back. I want you to walk through that stupid door and crawl into bed with me. I want to see you. It would kill me to see you walking the streets with someone else but at least I would be able to see you.  _

_ I still haven’t erased you from the flat you know. There’s still all the weird food in the cupboard and your weird tea. There’s still your products in the bathroom and your books in the bedroom. You didn’t leave me any clothes of yours for me to wear though. Nothing with your smell. I miss your smell. I miss you.  _

_ Your Lou,  _

_ Always.” _

***

 

London is grey at this time of the year. Autumn feels like home for Louis. The weather represents what he feels inside. But life goes on and more than once he finds himself at the pub with Liam on Friday evening. He meets Zayn, Liam’s friend and boyfriend-to-be if Liam plays his cards right. It’s such a nice thing to witness, young love. That makes him forget a bit how miserable his life is right now. 

He goes every Sunday to his mum for roast nowadays. She insisted that Louis come to visit his family for so long that now Louis obliges by showing up once a week.. He knows she is worried. He isn’t himself since Harry left. He doesn’t joke anymore. He isn’t sarcastic or bright or happy, he is just there. Waiting for the days to pass. Waiting for a sign. Waiting for Harry to come back. 

But Harry doesn’t. 

So Louis lives his life feeling empty and missing something. Someone. 

One day after lunch at his mum’s, she asks him to come do the dishes with her in the kitchen while everyone goes in the living room to watch some telly. 

“How are you, baby?” She asks him with a concerned look. Louis is a bit sick of this look and this recurring question. Everyone around him seems to give him this look. Louis sees pity in their eyes and so many questions. He thinks they fear for his life. As if Louis wants to do something stupid. 

“I’m okay, mum. Same old, you know.” He responds while taking a tea towel to swipe up the clean dishes Jay hands to him. 

“You always say you’re okay but you don’t look okay, Lou,” she sighs. They have this discussion twice a week. When she calls on Wednesday and when he comes by on Sunday. Louis feels sorry he can’t act better and pretend to really be okay. 

“You didn’t eat much.” This is not a question, just an observation. He can hear the “not like before” in his mother’s voice and he feels weary. 

“I’m fine, mum, really.” He kisses his mother’s cheek in the hope it will soothe her. He knows he will be fine at some point. Later. Not now. He is allowed to grieve. He wants to accept and move on but he is not ready yet. 

“Have you heard from him?” His mum asks while preparing the kettle for their tea.

“No.” He is dying to change the subject of this conversation but his mother doesn’t seem so keen.

“I know someone, you know,” she says casually, “If you’re looking for him, I can ask a friend to find him for you.” 

“What?” 

“You remember your friend Stan in secondary? Well, his father knows how to find people like Harry, people who cut all connections with-”

“Mum, please stop!” Louis interrupts her. He sighs, “I don’t want to find him. I want him to come back on his own. I want him to explain a thousand different things to me. I want to yell at him and apologize. I want so many things, mum, but I don’t want to track him down! He left! He decided it was over, he decided that I wouldn’t understand!”

“Baby, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m just trying to find a solution. You know I don’t like to see you like this.” 

“I know mum, I’m just-” he sighs, “I’ll be fine mum, I promise, give me some more time, okay?” 

He smiles weakly leaning in to hug his mum who holds him close. 

“I love you so much, baby, I hate to see you like that,” she says as she squeezes him gently. 

“I love you too, mum.” 

This evening, when he takes the road back to his flat, he curses himself for scaring his mum. Maybe this is it. “The point”. The moment he’s been waiting for to actively try to be better and move on. He doesn’t want to be longing for Harry all his life. Of course he wishes for a different ending for them, but it is what it is, right?

 

***

Louis is trying. 

As soon as he arrived home Sunday night, he proceeded to remove every memory of Harry from the flat. He put everything related to him in boxes that he packed away in his storage room. Deep down, he keeps the hope that Harry will come back. If it’s not for Louis, maybe it’ll be for his belongings. 

So little by little he erases Harry from the flat, hoping that it will erase the boy from his mind too. He couldn’t bring himself to put away the letters though. Those written by Harry as well as his own are safely stored under the bed again. But he doesn’t feel the need to read the ones Harry wrote to him anymore nor to write himself. 

He tries to hang out more with his friends, with Liam at work, and he continues to go to his mum’s on Sundays. It keeps him grounded (and also fed as his mum always preps several containers of tupperware for him for the week.)

Life goes on. 

***

Louis is late. He promised Liam and two other colleagues that he would come for drinks after work but right now he is swamped and can’t leave the office. 

Though, after the third message from Liam asking him if he is still coming, he gives up and replies a quick ‘Be there in 5’ before shutting down his computer. 

The bar is just in front of his workplace and in no time he is scrutinizing the evening crowd in search of Liam. He finally spots him seated with two other men at a booth on his left. 

Liam must have felt that he was being watched because he glances up at the same time as Louis is trying to wave at him. 

“Oh sorry.” A deep voice says at the same time as he is being jostled.  

Before he can respond his eyes meet the person behind the one who bumped into him. He suddenly feels his body tensing up and his breath getting caught in his chest. 

“Harry?” 

The man now in front of him seems as shocked as he is. his hair is shorter and his face seems skinnier, but right in front of him stands his Harry. 

“Louis?” Harry’s gravelly voice acts like a trigger and Louis finds himself having troubles breathing. 

“Lou, are you okay?” Liam asks behind him. He must have seen that Harry had materialised right in front of Louis and walked towards them. 

“Evening, Harry.” Liam’s voice is cold and Louis turns around to check what’s going on with Liam. 

“You alright?” Liam mouths to Louis right when Harry is clearing his throat. 

“I think I should go.” 

“No, wait!” Louis rushes behind Harry. He had forgotten about Harry’s long legs always allowing him to walk faster than Louis. 

“I didn’t mean to disturb your evening, I’m sorry-” Harry hurriedly tries to put his coat back on and leave but all Louis can see is that Harry is back. Right there in front of him. Walking away. Louis follows him outside.

“You’re back.” Louis’ voice is a bit strangled but Harry stops in his tracks. “I wrote letters to you.” 

Louis walks slowly towards Harry, “I found the letters you wrote me and I wrote back.” 

Harry runs a hand through his hair out of nervousness. “I really need to go,” he says, glancing up at Louis. His once bright green eyes seem dull and colorless now. “I’m sorry.” 

And with that he walks away. 

Louis doesn’t have the time to catch his breath when he hears the pub’s door being opened and someone’s steps walking towards him. 

“Where did he go?” The man has his coat in his hands and seems to be questioning Louis about Harry. “Do you know where he went? I saw him talking to you, do you know him?” 

“I-,” Louis dithers, “I don’t know.” He observes the man out of the corner of his eyes. Who is he? “Who are you?” He asks aloud. 

The man doesn’t seem to mind and answers, “I am Thomas Smith, and you are?” Thomas holds his hand out for Louis to shake but right now all Louis can think is  _ what if this Thomas is Harry’s new boyfriend _ . 

“I’m an old acquaintance,” Louis replies turning on his heel to go back inside though before he can reach the door, he turns back around and asks, “You don’t have Harry’s phone number by any chance?” 

Thomas frowns a bit, certainly considering if it’s a good idea to give his boyfriend’s phone number to a perfect stranger, but he complies nonetheless. 

Louis gives himself a pat on the shoulder when Thomas finally walks away, without a doubt calling or texting Harry to meet again. The phone number Thomas has given him is a new one. Louis knows Harry’s number by heart from the long minutes he’s spent every day wondering if he should call. 

If Harry doesn’t change it again, this number can be a way for Louis to explain himself to him. It’s a long shot, but Louis is willing to do anything he can to have Harry back in his life. Thomas be damned. Harry is his soulmate, his lover, his forever and after. Louis needs to try.

So he does. 

***

He first texts Harry when he is on the tube back home. 

After Thomas left, Louis went back inside to let Liam know that he was fine but was returning home. 

Louis thought about what to text the whole way from the pub to the tube station and finally when he’s seated on the dirty seats of the northern line, he types. 

_ “Hi Harry, it’s Louis. Thomas gave me your new number. I’m sorry if you had changed it because of me and all the messages I left you but we really need to talk. Please call me? Or text me, but please, I really need to speak to you, this is all a big misunderstanding. I haven’t moved, if you fancy coming by. There’s still a lot of your belongings in the flat.”  _

He hits send when he hears the mechanical voice announcing his stop. 

The whole way to his flat, he keeps lightening up his screen to see if he’s received a message but nothing is coming through. He begs Harry silently to respond, but nothing comes. 

Later in the night, he falls asleep with his hand still on his phone. 

Around midnight, a ping coming from his phone wakes Louis up with a start and it’s with blinking eyes that he reads the new text he’s received. It’s from Harry’s new number and suddenly Louis is fully awake. 

_ “Hello, Louis. I am sorry for responding so late but I needed some time to think. Here is my address if you want to send me the letters. P.S. I’m glad you got to read mine so you can hopefully understand everything better. I’m sorry for never giving them to you but I was scared. Have a good night. H”  _

A smile is slowly forming on Louis’ face. This is something. This message is something. Louis shushes the part of his brain that tells him that Harry has a new boyfriend and has moved on. He wants to believe in second chances. 

So he turns on the light and puts all of his letters into his messenger bag for tomorrow. He’ll send them first thing in the morning. 

***

 

Two weeks have passed since Louis sent out the letters and nothing has happened. He’s received no answer from Harry. No text, no email, no impromptu visit. Nothing. 

It hurts. 

He wonders if Harry cares. If he has cried or felt any emotion while reading Louis’ words. Maybe Harry only asked to have the letters so he can mock him with his new boyfriend. Louis laughs bitterly. 

He’s feeling angrier with each day that passes. He doesn’t ask for much to be honest, just acknowledgment. 

He’s feeling so down lately that he lets himself be dragged to the pub by Liam. 

“It’s good to let it go sometimes,” Liam had said when he’d asked, and Louis had just followed. 

Now, sitting at the counter with a beer and bowl of rancid peanuts in front of him, he wonders what he is doing here. 

“How was your day? Did Thompson say anything to you about the -” 

“I mean, I’m not asking for much right? Is it so hard to text me? I don’t get it Li!” Louis interrupts Liam who is watching him with his brows knitted. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I sent him my letters, Li, my fucking letters where I said maybe a thousand times that I was sorry and that I loved him and yet he still hasn’t deigned to call me.this isn’t okay Li!” 

“Oh, you’re talking about Harry, right?” Liam asks, apparently not catching up quick enough with Louis’ train of thought. 

“This isn’t fair, and you know what?” Louis jumps down from his stool, “I have his address, I’m going right now to see him and we’re going to speak. I can’t deal with this shit anymore.” 

“Louis, wait!” Liam tries to jump down from his stool as graciously as Louis did but ends up tripping on his own feet which gives Louis the time to go out and jump into the first cab he sees parked in front of the pub. 

He promptly gives Harry’s address that he may or not have memorised the moment he got it. 

He arrives sooner than he expected and before he knows it, he is in front of Harry’s building. Harry is living on the second floor and Louis wonders if the lights he sees from outside are the ones from Harry’s flat. He doesn’t question anything before ringing the intercom. 

Harry’s deep voice sounds even more deep when he asks who is it and Louis is tempted for two seconds to back out and run away as fast as possible. 

“It’s Louis.” He finally says, “Can we talk, please?” 

He can hear faint noises in the background and Louis ponders if Harry’s boyfriend is there. 

“I’m coming down,” Harry says and Louis feels himself getting sweaty. Okay, that’s it. It’s his one and only chance to make it right. His heartbeat has significantly quickened and Louis tries to breathe through his nose to calm himself. It’s fruitless though as soon as he sees the light being turned on in the entrance hall, he lets escape a “ _ fucking hell” _ and turns around, not ready to face Harry. 

***

He hears him before he sees him. He even smells him before he sees him and Louis has his heart in his throat. 

“Lou?” Harry calls and Louis’ demeanor crumbles. He holds back his tears and turns around. Harry is wearing comfy clothes and Louis wants to snuggle him right then and there. 

“Harry.” His face can’t stop smiling, his legs are walking towards Harry without his own accord and before he knows it, he is in front of Harry. Close enough that he can see every little detail of Harry’s face. He wants to reach out and study this face for a day or two. His mind had forgotten the freckles and the wrinkles by Harry’s eyes. 

“I received your letters.” Harry’s voice startles Louis out of his thoughts and he clears his throat. He needs to focus. 

“I was wondering actually, if you had received them.” Louis’ gaze drops to the ground as it’s not the complete truth. He was almost sure Harry received them with the amount of stamps he had put on the envelopes. 

“Have you read them?” He asks. This feels safer than to ask what Harry had thought of what was written. 

“I-, Yes, I read them. I was going to call actually.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes. I think we should, um, we should talk. Do you want to come in?” Harry asks, nibbling on his bottom lip. 

“Yes, I would love to.” Louis gives him a half grin before adding, “I mean, maybe we should talk when your boyfriend isn’t there though.” 

Harry, having already opened the front door with his keys, turns around, “My what? I don’t have a boyfriend, Lou” he laughs and Louis feels the heat rising on his cheeks. 

“Oh. I thought Thomas was your boyfriend. You know, the guy at the pub.” 

“Oh, no. Thomas is my sister’s boyfriend. We actually were supposed to meet to surprise Gem when you walked into me the other day.” 

“Oh, I see,” is all Louis answers, trying to keep up with Harry’s long strides on the stairs, though he feels exhilarated by this news. 

“Here, after you.” Harry opens the door of his flat for Louis to step in and shows him where to put his shoes before entering the flat. 

“It’s not big but I’m alone and often at work so it’s enough,” Harry says behind him as if he feels the need to justify himself. 

“It’s perfect, it’s very you.” Louis looks at all the photos Harry has put on the wall near the only window of his living room. 

“Do you want some tea?” Harry asks, leaving Louis and going into what could only be the kitchen. 

“Yes, please,” Louis responds, continuing to look around and absorbing the vibe of the room. 

Harry’s scent is everywhere and it feels like coming home. Louis doesn’t know this flat and yet he feels safe and calm here. 

“Here,” Harry says behind him, dropping off the mugs on the tiny coffee table. “We can sit,” he adds, sitting on the couch. 

Harry’s nervous, Louis sees it in his body language, the way he plays with his rings and he bites his lips. He wants to comfort him but Louis remembers that they are here to talk. So he does.

“Do you want to start or should I?” He asks, darting a glance at Harry. 

“Um, whichever you want,” is all the answer he receives so he starts. 

“I want to start by apologising. I believe our relationship wasn’t the perfect example of communication. I should have seen the signs and asked questions and been there for you.” 

“Lou, this isn’t your fault. You did nothing wrong,” Harry interrupts him. 

“H, c’mon,” Louis draws closer to Harry, “I  _ am _ at fault in this. We both are.” 

He reaches out and opens his palm on the couch, he wants Harry to decide if it’s okay to hold his hand. Luckily, Harry puts his hand in Louis’ and it feels so good to be able to touch Harry again. 

“I’m sorry I should have talked about my problems and how I felt,” Harry whispers, “I’m so sorry for what I did.” 

“Love, please look at me.” Louis is so close to Harry now, he could easily sit on his lap. “Yes, I wish you had told me, but it’s okay, we’re okay.” 

Harry bursts into tears at that, standing up from the couch. “No, we’re not okay Lou, how could you say that? I broke us up. I barely survived this year without you, and I’m sure you’re here out of pity, right? You don’t want to be with me but you need closure, isn’t that true?” 

Harry’s voice breaks and Louis can’t stop himself from standing up and moving to hug Harry. 

“I love you so much, Harry. Did you read my letters? Don’t you believe what you read?” 

“I did, I do, I believe you but-” Harry hiccups and Louis grabs the box of tissues on the coffee table. 

“But what, love?” 

“I keep thinking and my mind is telling me that maybe it’s not true.” 

“Well, it’s true, baby. I love you. There’s no else I’m waiting for. I want to live with you, marry you one day, and maybe have kids with you. Everything you want, I want the same.” 

“You do?” Harry is watching him with round eyes and Louis can’t keep himself from smiling. His boy is the cutest. “You want to marry me?” 

“Of course, love! I always thought my proposal was going to be something big but yes of course, H. I want to marry you.” He leans closer and feels Harry’s breath from there. “Do you want that too?” 

“Yes, please.” 

Louis smiles and caresses Harry’s cheek. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, still unsure if what he is living right now is real or just a dream. 

Harry nods and that’s all it takes for Louis to close the gap between them. 

Their lips fit perfectly and it’s soft at first, Harry sighing into the kiss. Louis’ euphoria makes him want to deepen it, his tongue on the tip of Harry’s bottom lip, asking for permission. 

It’s warm and wet and  everything Louis has wanted for a whole year and before he knows it, his hands are wandering behind Harry’s shirt. Harry’s back is hot and muscular under Louis’ fingers. He can’t believe this is happening. 

“Lou,” Harry whines and Louis needs to stop this because he can feel himself getting hard in his trousers and they aren’t ready for that kind of intimacy again. Not yet. 

“It’s been so long.” He says while kissing Harry’s jaw one last time before forcing himself to pull back. “I missed you so much.” 

“Me too, Lou, I’m so sorry.” 

“No, none of that H. Please stop saying you’re sorry, it’s over, okay? If anything, you leaving made me realise how much I love you and how much we need to work on this relationship. But we’re good now, aren’t we?” 

“Yes, we are.” 

***

That night, Louis stays for dinner. He doesn’t leave Harry’s before two in the morning, and when he does, he does so feeling like a brand new man. They talked and talked all evening. There’s a lot of work for them to do. Louis has agreed to come and meet Harry’s therapist because he wants this to work. 

When he enters his flat, he goes straight to his storage room and unpacks the boxes full of Harry’s belongings. He spends an hour putting everything back into it’s rightful place and he knows he won’t be able to sleep. He is too happy. 

Finally, around three in the morning, Louis decides to go and lie down. Before leaving Harry’s flat he had managed to grab one of his sweaters, so he puts it on and buries his nose into the collar. 

He snaps a picture of himself and sends it to Harry. 

He can’t wait to have his boy back home. 

 

FIN 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! Leave kudos and/or a comment it'll make my day :)
> 
> Come say [hello](http://pocketsunshineharry.tumblr.com)?
> 
> Here is the [fic post](https://pocketsunshineharry.tumblr.com/post/184244590782/pocketsunshineharry-come-home-to-me)


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